


Plus One

by sunspearing



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, other characters to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 08:12:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5241077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunspearing/pseuds/sunspearing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa has never lost to Iwa-chan, and he's not going to anytime soon. Now if only Ushiwaka-chan would stop making Oikawa fall for him for real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plus One

One downside of being in the national volleyball team, Oikawa thinks, is the inevitable communication drift between the athletes and the people they leave behind in Japan during game seasons. Sure, the existence of various and never-ending social media sites, coupled with the ever present, accessible and varying speeds of wireless internet available wherever and whichever country he and the team find themselves at was extremely convenient and welcomed. But even with Skype and Line and even Facebook, and stable hotel wifi, chatting and commenting on status updates and photos have a different feeling compared to attending small gatherings or even meeting up for coffee and catching up with life.

So after some four months away for national games, and a day filled with family welcoming him back and trying to squeeze out some stories from him, Oikawa tries to settle back into the quiet serenity of living in Miyagi. That is, until he sees the shimmering gossamer of a cream coloured envelope on his bedroom desk.

He stands up and takes a look at the stationery, flipping it open. It’s a wedding invitation, and Oikawa nearly drops the thing upon seeing who the lucky couple was. He thinks he might have crumpled the edges a bit because of how much force he accidentally gripped at the paper from shock. It’s scented too.

Being away for an extensive amount of time is definitely a downside, Oikawa concludes. In the four months Oikawa was away winning tournaments for the country, his best friend had gotten himself someone to love and legally affiliate with, all without telling him. 

Iwa-chan, that dog.

 

 

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” Oikawa whines for what might have been the sixth time since he’s settled down at a corner booth at a decent cafe with Iwaizumi, both of them nursing cups of vanilla latte. “You didn’t even make me your best man!”

“That’s because I know you’re busy.” Iwaizumi scratches at his head, tired and just a tiny bit annoyed at having to repeat himself over and over again. “And there was never a good time to tell you about the news because I know you’d freak out. Or badmouth me, or judge my life decisions. Or all of those at once because you’re Shittykawa for a reason.”

Oikawa snorts before flicking his fringe away from his eyes to glare at Iwaizumi. “We’re adults now but you still resort to petty nicknames, seriously Iwa-chan, does your future wife know she’s going to be marrying a kid?”

“Says the one still referring to people with -chan.” Oikawa’s sneer drops down into a thin line, and Iwaizumi laughs. “And yes, she knows exactly what she’s getting into. I know what I’m getting into, and I’m pretty sure I want to be married.”

“But that means having to share _everything_. What’s the fun in that?”

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow at the man sitting across him. “Have you seriously never been in a relationship before, you child?”

Oikawa reaches over to repeatedly smack at Iwaizumi’s arm. “Mean, Iwa-chan, mean! I had a girlfriend back in high school, remember?”

“She was more your mother than a girlfriend, she doesn’t count.” Iwaizumi shoves Oikawa’s hand away before continuing. “What about someone serious? Like, something that lasted more than three months and the other person not having been originally a member of your fanclub?”

Oikawa clicks his tongue at the condescending tone Iwaizumi uses on him. Iwa-chan is clearly underestimating him. “Of course I have!” Oikawa lies. “I’m in a relationship right now, too!”

“Oh yeah, how come you didn’t introduce them to me?” Iwaizumi counters. Oikawa sits back on his chair and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Because there’s no need to.”

“Because they don’t exist?”

“Because you know them already.” Oikawa should’ve probably shut up sometime before telling Iwaizumi he was in a relationship which clearly does not exist, but Iwa-chan doesn’t need to know that.

Iwaizumi scoffs, “Well shit, Oikawa, who’s the unfortunate soul that you’re feeding off of then?”

The bell hanging in front of the double doors of the cafe rings, signalling the entrance of a new customer. Oikawa turns towards the noise, his nerves sending his senses into hypersensitivity. It’s like his brain is giving him stimuli for fight or flight, and the moment he sees and recognises the figure that had entered the establishment, it feels like all the neurons in his skull fizzed out and hung in suspension there.

The newcomer’s eyes scan the room and, once they accidentally meet Oikawa’s, the setter’s brain whirs back to life.

Oikawa shoots Iwaizumi a winning smile before turning towards the direction of the cafe’s entrance, raising a hand before crooning, “Yahoo, Ushiwaka-chan! Over here!”

 

 

After managing to lead Ushijima to sit down in the U-bend booth seat next to Oikawa without it looking like he’s dragging the spiker’s big body into it, Oikawa goes back to grinning full-watt at Iwaizumi’s gobsmacked face. The sheer satisfaction Oikawa gets from surprising Iwa-chan is better than winning his first national match.

He doesn’t really contemplate on the fact that Ushijima is the constant factor in both treasured instances of pure joy.

“You’re shitting with me,” Iwaizumi concludes, not tearing his gaze away from Oikawa’s bright face. “I can’t believe you’re fucking lying to my face, and using Ushiwaka at that. He looks like he’s going to pop a vein.”

Oikawa pouts before turning to look at Ushijima. He’s been around Ushiwaka-chan for so long he’s pretty sure he already knows him down pat: from those stiff, broad shoulders, straight spine, aquiline nose, to that intense pitbull stare.

“That’s just how his face always looks, Iwa-chan. You’re probably just not used to seeing it without the net obscuring his wonderful visage.” Oikawa clicks his tongue, batting at the air with his hand as if trying to swat Iwaizumi’s words away, as if the meaning they carry were too preposterous to be entertained. “Also, you just offhandedly insulted my boyfriend’s face, you better feel bad about that, Iwa-chan.”

At the mention of the b-word, both Ushijima and Iwaizumi resume staring at Oikawa like he’s grown a second head, or probably informed them that he’d be giving up volleyball to work in a spaceship because he’s finally made contact with aliens. Oikawa’s starting to think that maybe the latter scenario would’ve resulted in him faring better than in the cesspool he’s trying to create for himself in situ.

Ushijima opens his mouth, as if to speak--most probably digress--but Oikawa cuts him off with a light but insistent push to his side. Ushijima’s dark eyebrows crease on his forehead.

“Ah, please excuse us for a moment, Iwa-chan. Ushiwaka-chan must be hungry and needs to buy food. I’ll just go accompany him so he doesn’t pick something that’s not included in his diet, he forgets easily.” Oikawa gives Iwaizumi a little wink before sliding out of the booth himself, hugging Ushijima’s arm and leading him towards the queue up front.

Oikawa is busying himself, humming while perusing the displayed pastries when Ushijima speaks up.

“What game are you playing now, Oikawa?”

“Game?” Oikawa asks innocently, “I’m not playing any game, Ushiwaka-chan.”

The crease between Ushijima’s eyebrows deepens. “Don’t call me that. I just want to know why you told Iwaizumi that I’m your boyfriend.”

“It’s nothing of relevance, Ushiwaka-chan, don’t pay much attention to it or you’ll exhaust your brain too much from all the thinking.” Oikawa pats Ushijima’s bicep good-naturedly, albeit a tad too dragged out to be of insignificance. “Now, I heard their strawberry shortcake here is nice so you should totally order that.”

“It’s not irrelevant if you’re trying to fool Iwaizumi about something, and I’m supposedly included in the deceiving,” Ushijima reasons, voice deep and clipped like it always is during practises and pre- and even post-matches, that Oikawa sighs in familiarity more than actual exasperation.

“Alright, fine. Iwa-chan is getting married in two months and we were talking about it when the subject suddenly jumped to me and my current relationship status, and I’m sure he was going to make fun of me, ok?” Oikawa huffs, crossing his arms against his chest and resolutely jostling Ushijima closer, his arm trapped between the tight brace of Oikawa’s torso and forearms.

“I don’t really see the need to drag me into this.” Ushijima might mean this both literally and figuratively.

“See, this is where you just won’t understand, Ushiwaka-chan.” Oikawa takes steps forward with Ushijima as they move along the queue. “It’s always a competition of sorts with me and Iwa-chan, and you of all people should know I hate losing. He was just waiting to show it to my face how capable of matrimony he is when the only important woman in my life is my mum.”

“Are you sure you aren’t just jealous of Iwaizumi?” Ushijima asks, sliding his gaze away from the menu in front of them to peer at Oikawa from the corner of his eyes.

Oikawa laughs. “You’re very funny when you try, Ushiwaka-chan.”

“I’m not even trying to be funny, Oikawa. I’m serious.”

“And I’m serious about this too.” Oikawa nudges Ushijima ahead. They’re next in the queue. “I just need you to pretend to be my boyfriend for a while, just until we leave Miyagi, and I successfully prove to Iwa-chan that he’s in no way better than me.”

Ushijima’s brows converge tighter Oikawa’s amazed mountains haven’t formed between them yet. “I still don’t agree with you lying to your friend.”

“Then it’s a good thing Ushiwaka-chan and I don’t agree on a lot of things, huh?” Oikawa smiles at him, cheeky and just that bit impish, and Ushijima finds himself nodding his head in acquiescence.

“You are right.” Ushijima steps up in front of the counter, Oikawa in tow. “A slice of carrot cake, please.”

“Ushiwaka-chan!” Oikawa says, indignant, pulling away and holding Ushijima’s bicep at arm’s length.

“I thought we just established that we don’t agree on a lot of things,” Ushijima reiterates before placing an order of cappuccino with his cake slice. He almost smiles at the surprised look on Oikawa’s face.

“Ushiwaka-chan’s just so cruel to me, you’re no better than Iwa-chan.” Oikawa huffs, then proceeds to add an order of a slice of strawberry shortcake before the barista manning the counter manages to ring up Ushijima’s bill. He grins triumphantly. “Thank you for buying me the cake, Ushiwaka-chan, you definitely know how to make it up to me.”

 

 

Ushijima doesn’t know how a simple plan of dropping by the town’s most decent cafe to spend the afternoon enshrouded in the normalcy he associated with peaceful high school days turned into an impromptu and totally unwanted staring match between him and Iwaizumi, the other sizing him up and making him feel like he was back to being a pubescent boy in front of the uptight Shiratorizawa volleyball coach some decade ago. With adulthood Ushijima was sure there’d be lesser things to be uncomfortable over (emotional parents, persistent fans, cats) but the man in front of him trying to squint him to submission is testament that he’s probably not as emotionally detached as he likened himself to be.

Oikawa isn’t even helping him at all, busy scooping out the foam on Ushijima’s cappuccino instead of paying attention to the thickening tension between his best friend, and current volleyball teammate turned fake boyfriend.

Ushijima clears his throat before turning away, willingly withdrawing from the stare off to take another bite of his carrot cake. He glances to his side to see Oikawa stopping from his foam pillaging to looking at Ushijima judgingly, his eyes narrowing while following the path of the fork the ace is putting back on his plate. Ushijima didn’t really prepare to be scrutinised like some lab experiment today.

“Seriously, Ushiwaka-chan, I don’t understand why of all cake flavours you pick carrot. Why don’t you try mine? I promise it goes with your coffee better,” Oikawa says, moving to push Ushijima’s coffee away so he can pull his plate of cake closer. He practically forces Ushijima to take a morsel of the cake with how persistently he nudged him to open his mouth, and grins the moment the other eats the bite.

“Your taste is still far too sweet,” Ushijima comments, reaching for his cup of cappuccino to take a sip and wash down the sugar. He and Oikawa have been on the same volleyball team for more than four years that sharing food is nothing new, Oikawa’s mind-numbing sweet tooth and habit of stealing milk foam almost common knowledge by now.

“You just have the taste buds of an old man, Ushiwaka-chan. Next thing you know you’ll be eating wheat muffins with black coffee and I will be here to rub at your face and tell you that I’m always right.”

Even the light banter has started to come freely when it comes to Oikawa, all the hours spent together during practices, travel between matches and pre- and post-celebrations spent in shared hotel rooms building an odd sort of camaraderie between them, and it’s comforting. It’s a sort of reprieve in the fast bustle of the life of a national athlete.

But Iwaizumi doesn’t know of this, of the weird kind of friendship he and Oikawa have forged outside Miyagi and overseas, that it makes pretending being a couple easier. All too easy. Oikawa’s probably planned this out better than he gave himself credit for.

“Fuck, you guys _are_ a couple. You’re _disgusting_ ,” Iwaizumi spits out, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back on his seat, glaring at the way Oikawa’s insistently shoving a strawberry at Ushijima’s face as if trying to offend the other with it.

“You’re just jealous, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa sing-songs, pushing the fruit slice into Ushijima’s mouth when the other was about to reply. “And you’re just upset because you’re wrong.”

Iwaizumi snorts. “How can I be jealous when I’m getting married? I’m leagues away from you and your boyfriend.” It still feels weird referring to Ushijima with the b-word, as if calling him that acknowledges the fact that he’s someone of Oikawa’s association and not just a person from the past. “So he’s going to be your date for the wedding, then?”

Oikawa almost spills his latte on Ushijima’s cake. “What?”

“I put on your invitation you’re allotted two seats for the wedding. So Ushijima’s going to be your plus one, yeah?” While Oikawa is busy trying to remember what the invitation looks like and what was written on it, Iwaizumi turns his attention to Ushijima. “I’ll be seeing you there with Stupidkawa, right?”

There’s an underlying tone of force there, undeniable emotion of hidden wrath Ushijima rather not incur especially if it is of the friend of the person he’s decided to be the best volleyball player ever to be teamed with, so he replies with a curt nod. 

“Of course I will. Oikawa and I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

**Author's Note:**

> I uh i don't know honestly... This is my favourite trope... and my fav otp.....


End file.
